Two Words I Can Never Refuse
by OperationBlueSky
Summary: Set at the end of "The Next Doctor". The Doctor succumbs to an old Christmas tradition, and doesn't want to stop. PWP ensues. Jackson Lake/10 oneshot. I do not own anything.


"I take it this is goodbye…?" Jackson asked.

"Onwards and upwards," the Doctor replied.

"Tell me one thing," Jackson said, almost playing for time. He didn't want the Doctor to leave. Ever. "All those facts and figures I saw of the Doctor's life. You were never alone. All those bright and shining companions. But… not any more?"

"No."

"Might I ask, why not?"

"They leave. Because they should – or, because they find someone else. But… some of them… some of them… forget me."

How could _anyone_ forget a man such as the Doctor? Bewilderment was evident on Jackson's face, mixed with sadness and loss, quickly resulting in an expression that hurt the Doctor deeply; cut him down to the soul. But he tried hard not to show it.

"I s'pose, in the end…" he said, and then he paused.

So many thoughts ran through his mind. Everyone he'd known, everyone he'd loved, everyone he'd lost. He knew why they all left, in the end. One, simple reason. "…They break my heart." He blinked, his emotions painfully restrained.

Jackson looked back into the Doctor's deep eyes, knowing what he meant. His own heart was breaking, knowing that the Doctor was leaving. He could never see him again. No – he couldn't let him leave… not now… not after what they'd been through together.

"That offer of Christmas dinner," he said, taking a hopeful step towards the Doctor. "It's no longer a request; it's a demand." He smiled, seeing the Doctor smile too.

"In memory of those we've lost," the Doctor agreed. Jackson nodded, his gaze falling a little.

The Doctor turned his head, breathing sharply out through his lips – "Oh, go on then!"

Jackson laughed softly; "Really?"

"Just this once. You've – you've actually gone any changed my mind – not many people can do that," he said, practically in one breath, cheering up immensely. He took a step towards Jackson. "Jackson," he said, quietly; "If anyone had to be the Doctor, I'm glad it was you."

Jackson smiled back at him, his arm gesturing towards where he was headed. "The feast awaits! – Come, with me," he added, breathless. The Doctor closed the door of the Tardis behind him, and turned back to Jackson, as he said, "Walk this way."

"I certainly will!" the Doctor replied, jubilant.

They both chuckled, the Doctor walking awkwardly beside Jackson around the Tardis before he regained his poise on the lumpy snow. "Merry Christmas to you, Jackson," the Doctor said, hands deep in his pockets.

"Merry Christmas, indeed, Doctor," he replied, smiling happily as they rounded the corner. "You know, Doctor…" he said, waving an arm at the people bustling around in the street, "I don't think it has occurred to anyone here that it is the middle of the night. Not many people actually eat Christmas dinner at this time. You know… you're welcome to stay for a bit longer, if you so wish…?"

The Doctor grinned at him, brushing light snow out of his hair. "'Course!" he said, sniffing loudly. "Of course I will!"

Jackson smiled back, still a little uneasy around his friend. After all, they were technically the same person. The Doctor seemed to have gotten over this fact quite quickly, not seeming to bother him at all. Jackson pondered; if this was the case, then there was no harm in accepting that they _were_ two different people…

Jackson's eyes fell to the approaching wooden bench that sat at the roadside, an oak branch hanging lazily over the wall behind, leaves dangling above. He gestured at it to the Doctor, who wandered over to sit. He sighed as he leaned forwards, still shaking snow out of his hair. Jackson sat beside him, arm resting on the metal handle to his left.

They sat in silence for a while, neither having much to say. They watched sleepy people hurry about, trying to clear the disarray that the Cyberking had wreaked upon central London. They were all anticipating a very interesting Christmas. Thick snow swirled from the black sky, catching on the oak leaves… no, they weren't leaves – it was winter, anyhow. There wouldn't be any leaves.

"Mistletoe," observed Jackson, leaning back on the bench. The Doctor leaned back too; looking up to see white beads amass bunches of green. Together they admired the beauty of the simple plant, the snow still swirling profusely in the cold air.

Jackson looked away, towards the Doctor. The Doctor looked back at him. What? What was he looking at? Why was he looking at the Doctor like… that?

The Doctor dropped his chin, smiling down at his knees. Jackson was still looking, he could tell. The Doctor's lips parted slightly, and he licked them tentatively.

Mistletoe. However did people think of these excuses?

The Doctor looked back up, smiling sideways at Jackson. "Do you want to…?" he asked, leaving his question unfinished. Jackson knew exactly what he would have said; he nodded slowly, moving in closer. The Doctor's eyes were drawn to Jackson's red lips, already parted and wet, desperate to be kissed. The Doctor licked his own lips again, the cold air chilling his saliva. He leaned in too, Jackson's hand reaching out to cup the Doctor's face in his palm. The Doctor loved the feeling; even more than he'd felt when Jackson had done it earlier. Perhaps because he wasn't begging for help this time. But he was begging for something else.

"Kiss me," Jackson said, his face a few inches from the Doctor's.

"Ah," the Doctor said, his eyes flicking between Jackson's lips and his eyes. "Also two words I can never refuse…"

The Doctor leaned in closer, his eyes fixed on Jackson's parted lips … their lips met, Jackson's warm and soft against the Doctor's. The Doctor pressed harder to his mouth, loving the feel, the taste, the whole sensation. Their mouths opened against each other, the Doctor's tongue sliding along Jackson's teeth. Jackson copied his movement, tipping his head forwards a little. The Doctor moaned, his hand sliding to Jackson's neck, fingers cold against his hot skin. The Doctor tilted his head to the side and rocked his lips against Jackson's, drawing out a moan from them both. Jackson pulled away to breathe, but neither moved far; the Doctor's lips still hung, gaping, only a few short millimetres from Jackson's own. Neither of them wanted to stop.

The Doctor pulled himself closer, their thighs pressing together, his other hand reaching to tangle in Jackson's hair as he brought him in for another crushing kiss. His tongue fought enthusiastically against Jackson's, their kiss intensifying, every movement from either leaving them both wanting more. Jackson groaned into the Doctor's mouth, his nose pressed against the Doctor's cheekbone. Their lips came apart for no more than a few seconds as they took another quick breath, before pressing together again for another desperate round. The Doctor panted and groaned against Jackson's wet lips, their hands twisting through each others hair and gripping each others clothes as best they could with cold fingers.

They pulled apart, both panting and slightly shaky. The Doctor looked sheepishly back to Jackson, who stared out at the falling snow; their fast, hot breath swirling into clouds of steam.

The Doctor cleared his throat; "Do you want to… continue this… somewhere a bit more… private?" he asked, a little nervously. Jackson nodded back at him, only keeping eye contact for a second. He licked his lips again, and then stood, holding out his hand for the Doctor to take. The Doctor did so, accepting Jackson's offer of help – his legs felt a bit wobbly.

"I know somewhere," Jackson said. So they made their way further down the road, fresh snow crunching beneath their feet.

___

They had been walking a few minutes, the Doctor's canvas shoes sopping with cold water. Eventually he asked Jackson, "Where are we actually _going_? Seeing as Rosita and your son have gone back to your Tardis base, and we can't exactly go _there_, given what we plan to do…" he grinned, and Jackson returned it; then the Doctor continued; "So – where _are_ we going?"

He took a look round at the damp, dark buildings, snow lining every exposed area. None of them looked all that inviting. But Jackson pointed to a tavern ahead of them, warm lights brightening the road in front of it. "There's a nice lady who runs that place – with luck, she'll still have a room available on this Christmas morning." The Doctor smiled at the alluring lights, and followed Jackson up the mushy steps to the front door.

The door swung open with a '_ding_' from a bell, and as soon as the wave of heat hit the Doctor, snow began to melt off him like butter in a frying pan. He removed his coat, enjoying the feel of having fingers again. Jackson followed suit, wrapping his wet trench coat over his arm. Then he stepped up to the counter, where the old lady he spoke of smiled at him. He requested a room for the night – just one – in order for him and the Doctor to 'discuss personal matters'. She smiled and nodded, lifting the desk barrier and shuffling under her own raised arm, then turning to lead the two men up a rather wonky wooden staircase.

"It's two pounds for the both of yers," she said, her frail hands grasping the banister tightly. "And any _funny business _is a pound extra. Have to bribe the other guests to keep quiet about it once they leave. Might ruin me reputation."

The Doctor grinned and rolled his eyes at Jackson, who slapped three pound notes into the woman's hand once they reached the top of the stairs. She gave them both a wry smile before nodding in acceptance, opening a door, then making her way back downstairs. "If yer need anything, gimmie a yell!" she called up, rather loudly for the time of night. A couple of guests thumped on the walls in complaint with the sudden disturbance. A giant Cyberman trying to destroy the city was bad enough, but people _talking_? Why did they ever choose this inn? That promised bribe had better be worth it.

Jackson shut the door quietly behind them, dropping his damp coat to the floor. He heard the Doctor's coat falling, too. He turned to see the Doctor unbuttoning his brown suit jacket. He watched silently, slipping his own tweed jacket off, before moving his hand to undo his red waistcoat. Both fell heavily to the floor, the Doctor's stripy tie and dark blue shirt joining them. The Doctor moved forwards to unpin Jackson's necktie, the pin falling and losing itself within folds of discarded clothing. The Doctor's hands slowly unbuttoned Jackson's shirt, his hands moving nimbly between each button. He slid it off Jackson's broad shoulders, hands then travelling down his smooth back, thumbs sliding beneath the waistband of his black trousers. He unbuttoned them, letting them fall from Jackson's hips, before undoing his own. The Doctor's hands slid up Jackson's muscular chest, coming to rest on his shoulders. Jackson slipped his own hands around the Doctor's skinny hips, one hand pushing his underwear from his body. The same hand then removed his own underwear, a pool of damp cloth spilling out from beneath their feet. The Doctor stepped onto cool black floorboards, taking off his wet shoes in the process. Jackson followed him to the made bed, dark cloth and white cotton lining the duvet covers.

The Doctor sat, pushing himself backwards to the centre of the bed. It creaked a little under his weight, sinking down when Jackson joined him. He leaned over the Doctor's naked body, seeing the arousal growing between his spread legs. Jackson let out a slow breath, a hand pressing gently to the skin between the Doctor's hip and thigh. He ran his fingers down towards his groin, the Doctor shuddering silently under his touch. The Doctor lay back, resting on his elbows. Jackson leaned forwards more, their open lips brushing against each other gently. He held his hips above the Doctor's body, their arousals not touching, but close. So very, very close.

The Doctor's head tipped back to catch Jackson in a slow, tender kiss – every nerve in Jackson's lips were suddenly ablaze with fiery passion. He immediately deepened the kiss, his hands pulling the Doctor's torso up to meet his own. The Doctor moaned at the feel of Jackson's hot body against his own; he pulled him hard down onto his own, Jackson falling between his open legs. They gasped as one, fast-hardening erections oh so sensitive against each other. Jackson ran a hand through the Doctor's thick hair, melted snow dripping off onto the dark fabric beneath them.

The Doctor's tongue ran feverishly over his own, as Jackson slid his hand hesitantly up his inner thigh. With each slow, jerky movement, the Doctor gave a responsive shudder, gasping and groaning at Jackson's soft touch. Jackson reached the top of the Doctor's thigh; he then smoothed his hand over his throbbing groin –

"Oh!" the Doctor called abruptly, breaking the kiss, his mouth open wide as his head fell back. Jackson kissed the Doctor's neck feverishly; short, nipping, burning kisses. His hand still fondled the Doctor's length – the effect it was having on him was quite clear. He writhed in pleasure beneath Jackson's now steady hands, his own hands too shaky to keep their hold on Jackson's lower back. They fell to his sides, frantically clenching and unclenching at the duvet, too restless to stay still. He gasped at every movement Jackson made, pleasure surging through his body. His gasps became moans, then got louder and more passionate as he got closer to orgasm – Jackson was panting desperately, enjoying this at no end. His body fell closer to the Doctor's, their throbbing cocks touching, rubbing, both of them wanting more, so very badly. They cried out loudly as they thrust their bodies together, their wet lips brushing past each other gently with each thrust. The Doctor caught Jackson in a fast, wild kiss, his hands regaining their composure; one pressing firmly to Jackson's backside, the other tightly gripping locks of his thick hair. Jackson gasped a few times, his fingertips digging into the Doctor's hip, rocking their bodies together. The Doctor tipped his head back again, a deep, low moan escaping his lips, as Jackson grunted his name, his fast, hot breath falling over the Doctor's neck.

"Oh, Jackson…" the Doctor groaned, a hand clutching at his lower back. The other tightly grasped the hair at the nape of Jackson's neck, as the Doctor pulled him into another crushing kiss. Their lips touched once, twice, three times, before they both cried out in sudden ecstasy as they came, the Doctor's hips bucking into Jackson's. Jackson pressed down in one final thrust against the Doctor, hot come spilling over both of their bodies and onto the dark material below them.

It took them both a while to regain full consciousness, each of them lost in a world that only contained the other. They lay and gasped for breath, both still wanting more, neither of them satisfied yet.

The Doctor flipped Jackson over onto his back, kissing him again, in short, frantic bursts. His hand slid again to his hair, brushing it out of his face, tangling his fingers in it. Jackson moaned, his own hands touching the Doctor, causing him to moan too. They didn't want to stop. They weren't going to stop.

___

The twelve other guests who stayed in the tavern that night emerged the next morning, smiles of satisfaction on their faces. The owner of the tavern greeted the Doctor and Jackson with an even happier smile – she had made twelve extra pounds 'for the show'. It seemed that walls in 1851 were not all that thick.

___

"So, I take it this is goodbye," Jackson said sadly. "Again," he added, as an afterthought.

"Onwards and upwards," the Doctor repeated, as before. "And…thank you for dinner. It was lovely." They smiled at each other, knowing they would always share something, knowing they would always remember. He couldn't come back. Timelines and all that, he'd said. Jackson understood.

The Doctor leaned in to kiss Jackson for what would be the last time. Jackson kissed back, his hand gliding around the Doctor's head and pulling him closer. He pushed him up against the Tardis, tipping his head back to slip his tongue into the Doctor's mouth. The Doctor moaned; his hand dropping to Jackson's waistband straight away. Jackson let him undo the buttons, before undoing the Doctor's in return. He flipped the Doctor over, pushing his torso into the blue wood of the Tardis. His hands caressed the Doctor's smooth buttocks, both their arousals growing rapidly. Jackson's hot breath curled around the Doctor's neck, making the hair on it stand up. The Doctor grasped Jackson's hand and pressed it to the Tardis beside his head, securing it beneath his own. He gasped and then groaned, as he felt Jackson enter him, as he felt him begin to thrust inside him. Jackson let out a short breath with every movement he made, the Doctor groaning, almost shivering in his arms. The Doctor let out a grunt as Jackson thrust harder, faster, more rhythmic. Their fingers entwined around each other against the Tardis panels, the Doctor's fingers scratching lightly at the paint. His hot breath made condensation contours on the cold structure, his cheek pressed up against it. Jackson moaned and gave a last few thrusts before he came, giving a strangled cry that excited the Doctor so much that he came too, come dripping down the navy panels of the Tardis. Together they let out a shaky breath, Jackson removing himself from the Doctor, pulling up his underwear and trousers. The Doctor did the same, turning to face his friend.

With a wordless kiss, they left each other, Jackson standing back on the snowy pavement as a blue wooden box vanished into nothingness.

No matter what he'd forgotten, he would always remember this.

Always.


End file.
